(Source: China Daily)

A trip to Tibet that defied expectation

By Bruce Connolly | chinadaily.com.cn | Updated: 2019-01-14 14:27

The Qinghai-Tibet Plateau is the source for several great rivers. One, the Yarlung Zangbo River, is not only the world's highest major stream but also regarded as the "mother river" of Tibet. Its source is, in turn, meltwater originating from the Angsi Glacier southeast of Mount Kailash. From there it forms the main valley in southern Tibet, running east direction for 1,200 kilometers.

The Yarlung Zangbo River descends from high altitude cold deserts through scrublands to coniferous forest before turning abruptly south and cascading via great canyons towards the Indian subcontinent, where it is known as the Brahmaputra. Passing through the large Tibetan areas of Shannan and Nyingchi, climate along lower levels of the valley is warm enough for arable cultivation. This creates landscapes very different from the stereotyped images of Tibet — vast highlands mostly devoid of habitation.

This area, occupying the middle reaches of the Yarlung Valley, is known as Shannan, literally "south of the mountains". Particularly in summer the area receives warmer, moist air from the Indian Ocean. This, combined with a secure water supply, facilitated arable farming. Shannan is one of the longest-settled areas within Tibet, very different from the expected norm of nomadic upland yak grazings. Early irrigation channels helped spread water across the valley floors, transforming it into the main grain-producing area of Tibet. Arable farming in turn led to more settled communities centered around compact villages and small towns, with a much more permanent feel compared to the vast areas stretching north.

When I look at contemporary online maps, transport infrastructure has changed considerably. Not only has the airport expanded, but it is today connected with Lhasa by an expressway along the northern banks of the Yarlung Zangbo River. In 2000 I had a quite different experience of the river — by boat. Yes, a boat trip in Tibet! Although the river mostly flows fast with considerable turbulence, there are sections placid enough for ferry boats to navigate. One such craft would carry me toward the 8th-century Samye Monastery, which I had first seen from an aircraft descending into Gonggar Airport. Located in a fertile valley stretching between dry mountain slopes, Samye at that time was isolated, with the main access via the river crossing.

At a riverside pier, large open-topped boats powered by former tractor engines were lined up. Everything had to cross the river by boat. That included not only people but farm animals, pieces of machinery and everyday necessities. The water level was low, many sand banks were exposed and we would sail against the downriver current. I had plenty of time not just to look at my fellow passengers, but try to share some pleasant greetings. Some, spinning prayer wheels while fingering wooden beads, were obviously heading to Samye. Others were villagers, but all were quite curious about me and would try to offer some food, including the traditional tsampa. From the tree-shaded far shore a mini-bus carried everyone along a sandy track past a small village before the monastery buildings came into view. An air of excitement fell over my fellow passengers.

Samye has a history over 1,200 years, founded sometime between 765 and 780. The overall design was based on Odantapuri Temple in Bihar, India and laid out in a way representing Buddhist cosmology. A central temple had other temples placed around it in two concentric circles, meant to represent the oceans and continents surrounding a central holy mountain.

I went inside the main hall, the Utse, at the center of which was a pole symbolizing the center of the universe. Monks chanted, and others banged drums. From the main assembly hall steps led up to its most important chapel enclosing a four-meter high statue of Sakyamuni. Passing monks blowing wind instruments from an open window, I emerged onto a balcony where I could look over many buildings and beyond.

I had time to walk around the grounds before it was time to head back by small bus toward the river and rejoin a group of locals for the crossing to the southern pier. It was then only a short drive to what then felt a surprisingly modern town — Tsedang, capital of Shannan prefecture and Tibet's fourth largest city. Lying near the flanks of Mount Gongbori, permanent settlement in the area goes back several thousand years as seen by the numerous ancient ruins around the area. However, the town actually dates back to the founding of Ganden Chokhorling monastery in 1351.

After lunch at Tsedang's main hotel, where I would stay that night, it was time to head out to discover more local treasures. Soon we were driving along a beautiful agricultural valley boasting a colorful patchwork of fields. This was where arable farming first emerged in the area.

The destination was Yumbu La Gang, regarded as the first palace built in Tibet. This narrow towering structure, perched on a craggy ridge, resembles a small European castle. Now a temple, its foundations were apparently laid more than 2,000 years ago. It was quite a climb up a stone track to the structure where I stood looking out over the scene, particularly of fields that had been cultivated for generations. Again, it was so different to earlier views I had of Tibet. Some local people had gathered on a small square outside the temple buildings. A monk came out giving me a greeting of "Hello" and invited me inside its small hall almost filled with statues. Reluctantly I had to leave, following the path back down to a village where I stopped to watch a wall being built. People sang as they worked, something I noticed several times on this journey.

Heading back along the valley towards Tsedang, I visited the small Trandruk Monastery, dating back to the seventh century. It was one of 12 temples laid in concentric circles around Lhasa's Jokhang Temple. While I was there, considerable restoration of older wall paintings was underway by a team of artisans.

As always with such travels, there was so much to take in and absorb. After dinner at the hotel, I found a small cafe to spend time taking notes. Recorded music was playing — incredibly, songs originally from my native Scotland!

During my brief stay in Tsedang I noticed how it was comparatively modern, the hotel excellent for that period in Tibet, now almost 20 years ago. However, contemporary photos tell a different story. Part of its explosive growth came from tourism, stimulated by ongoing infrastructure projects. I saw such activity as we left Tsedang, initially following the Yarlung Zangbo River Valley. Bridges were being constructed across the river, and electricity transmission pylons were being erected to supply remote communities.

Soon the road left the main valley following a much smaller stream. I noticed how green the surrounding hills were appearing, suggesting higher rainfall. Ahead, a large "face" was painted on a cliff wall. Soon after, we pulled into Chusong. There, in that small administrative town, rose a modern middle school.

Ahead the road became more challenging, particularly for nervous passengers such as myself. Although we had left the Yarlung Zangbo River, the route we were following would later rejoin it. It was a long slow climb, giving me plenty of time to look out over the landscape, the valley below and the skyline of mountain peaks. Vegetation was changing, from the abundant, fertile lands lower down into more of an alpine or arctic scene. I was glad we stopped at the top. There, sitting amongst prayer flags, I looked south across the panorama. A feeling of being on "top of the world", but so different to what I had seen earlier near Xigaze. A pleasant aroma of flowers, reminding me of the Swiss Alps, drifted in the calm air.

As we descended from that pass, villages of stone built houses began to appear. Some seemed to resemble those I had found in northern Sichuan, with open upper floor balconies. Obviously there was a greater population density in this area, more permanent settlement evidenced also by new school buildings.

We were back following Tibet's mighty river, which flowed forcefully through this area. Riverbanks rose high, composed of glacial deposits carried through time by massive meltwater streams. It was a textbook landscape for me, a geographer.

Local hydroelectric plants were built on tributary streams, with more bridge work allowing accessibility for once remote villages formerly only accessed by wire ropeways. As the valley widened out, arable land produced grain, fruit trees were abundant and cattle grazed beside the river. There, where a smaller river joined the main flow, was the county town of Langxian, where I would stay overnight. My hotel sat next to the rushing waters of the smaller river. I spent time after dinner in a local café, run by a family from Kunming, writing or simply watching the outdoor scenes. The owners gave me cakes as a token of friendship.

The next morning before departure, I walked around this compact settlement fascinated by the new buildings constructed to provide necessary services for the local population. Then, a leisurely drive alongside the Yarlung Zangbo River to Mainling before crossing the river for the last time. We joined Highway 318 coming up from Sichuan, reaching Bayi in Nyingchi for an overnight. Beyond lay Lhasa and the culmination of an amazing 15-day Tibet adventure.Monks producing music and sounds.